


Les Mis! The Genetic Opera

by shelny18



Series: The Dangers Of Monopoly [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Repo, Angst, F/M, I sold my soul to the devil, M/M, Monopoly contract, Prior knowledge of Repo not needed, This is Repo after all, apologies in advance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelny18/pseuds/shelny18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras cannot allow this world to languish in such darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ApolloSupreme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApolloSupreme/gifts).



> So we were playing Monopoly and I lost. Pretty damn badly. But first I got two cards off my flatmate (ApolloSupreme) by writing her a contract - that the next 10 fics I write are her choice. She could choose the fandom, the length, the characters, the prompt - everything. And so I got my ten prompts. Some are scary. This was the first one I had ideas for. Much longer than expected, but oh well.
> 
> Apologies in advance.
> 
> The only background information you'll need on Repo before reading this is that there has been an epidemic of organ failures and the company L'ABC Genes provides organ transplants on a payment plan. Clients who fail to keep up with payments are hunted down by the Repoman: an assassin who regains the organs for the company and generally kills the victim whilst doing so.

As Joly slowly worked his way into consciousness he sighed, snuggling deeper into Enjolras's side.

"Don't you have work?" the blonde murmured, though the way he wrapped his arms around the doctor did nothing to support his words.

"I have time," Joly shrugged, refusing to open his eyes. Enjolras chuckled and brushed his lips against Joly's temple.

"You haven't even looked at the clock," he pointed out.

"My alarm hasn't gone off yet," came the instant reply.

Enjolras slowly, oh so slowly, kissed his way down Joly's face, pressing light kisses to his eyes, his nose, his cheeks before finally touching his lips. The doctor responded instantly, hands slipping their way up Enjolras's back to tangle in his hair.

"In which case," Enjolras muttered, puntuating each word with a kiss, "we have time to spare."

Joly wasn't going to argue.

* * *

Enjolras pulled his coat closer round him as he hurried through the streets, ignoring everyone he passed. He wanted to help them, he wanted to stop by every beggar, give food to every urchin, but today he just didn't have time.

"Well?" he demanded as he stopped by a street seller, glancing round to make sure no-one was listening before looking back at the man.

"I got nothing out of him," Feuilly murmured apologetically, pretending to show Enjolras some of his wares as he spoke, just in case anyone was nearby. "He wants to see you in person."

The blonde cursed angrily, clenching his fists and turning away slightly as he did so, resisting the urge to punch something, hard. Swinging back round to Feuilly he growled out his next question, barely noticing the flash of fear which crossed Feuilly's face.

"Where the fuck is he?"

* * *

Grantaire laughed loudly as he watched Enjolras storming down the street, waiting until the blonde was almost past him before materialising from the doorway.

"Afternoon Apollo," he grinned, doffing an imaginary hat as the other man span to glare at him.

"Graverobber," he bit out in reply, standing stiffly.

"Ooh, so formal," Grantaire teased, unable to resist. "You're one of the few knows my name, why not use it?"

"Get on with it," Enjolras snapped. He'd forgotten just how annoying Grantaire could be sometimes.

Grantaire laughed again before looking Enjolras up and down. "You're looking good," he said softly, taking Enjolras's elbow and leading him back into the shadows. A touch of warmth entered Enjolras's eyes and voice as he replied.

"You too. Javert has upped the reward on you by the way. You've reached €25,000."

"That it?" Grantaire shrugged. "I'll get worried when he passes €100,000. I supply too many people for them to turn me in, especially since the 'Parnasse got caught. I'm the only one left in this half of the city."

"Just watch your back."

"Watch your own," he retorted. "You're the one working with the scumbags who call themselves a police, yet is out searching for fucking Repoman of all people in his spare time. I don't want to be asking Feuilly and hearing that you're dead."

"You ask Feuilly about me?" Enjolras said sharply and Grantaire winced.

"Okay, maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that. I worry about you, okay? For the reasons I just gave. Plus, you know, I care about you." He coughed, face noticably red even in the darkness of the shadows. "Now, onto business."

"Repoman," Enjolras said firmly, ignoring Grantaire's previous comment. "Do you know who he is?"

"No." Grantaire held up one finger as Enjolras opened his mouth to yell exasperatedly. "You want to know why I couldn't have just told Feuilly that. I have information as well and, as much as we both trust Feuilly, this is a dangerous topic. The Repoman is a doctor. Your boyfriend may even know him."

Enjolras almost raised an eyebrow at the bitterness in Grantaire's voice but stopped himself just in time. Grantaire had every right to be bitter over his relationship with Joly really, seeing as the doctor had been part of the reason he'd split up with the zydrate dealer in the first place (though nowhere near as big a reason as the fact that Grantaire was an annoying pain-in-the-arse graverobber constantly living on the wrong side of the law and a mere one step away from capture at all times, and Enjolras worked with the people trying to catch him. Really, it was never going to work.)

"I'll talk to him," he said instead.

"No you won't, because you don't want him knowing about this," Grantaire guessed correctly. "You want him to think the best of you." He shook his head. "Go home Enjolras, before you get caught in the wrong end of town, or some thug realises who you are."

"If you find anything out-"

"I'll contact you," Grantaire finished for him. "I promise."

Enjolras hesitated for a moment before muttering a quick "Be careful", throwing up his collar and hurrying away, leaving Grantaire standing there, a small frown creasing his brow.

"Be careful yourself," he sighed before turning and vanishing into the underbelly of the city.

* * *

Combeferre felt like groaning when his office door banged open and his children spilled into the room. As ever they were bickering, Bahorel and Jehan practically at each other's throats whilst Courfeyrac just sauntered past them both and flopped down into the nearest chair to the desk, looking as bored and inappropriately dressed as ever.

"Will the pair of you just shut up," Combeferre finally snapped, glaring at them until the pair sank down into chairs of their own. "Thank you."

"So, announcement of the will next week," Courfeyrac said slyly, keeping his father's glare evenly.

"Careful or you'll be written out," he warned, the words clearly meant for all three. Not that any of them took his threat seriously - they never did. He went back to his paperwork, knowing that ignoring his children was the best way to get them to leave, not even protesting when Bahorel picked up some sheets and started leafing through them.

"Marius Pontmercy eh?" He chuckled, a low dark sound that resonated deep in his throat. "Good. That'll teach that bastard Gillenormand to think he can try and set up a rival company."

"Think he even knows his grandson came to us?" Jehan laughed, his own voice a lot higher but just as annoying to his father's ears.

"That doesn't matter," Combeferre shrugged. "It's a matter of business, nothing more. Repoman already has the assignment, by this time tomorrow it'll be finished."

"Oh." Jehan almost sounded disappointed as he sighed, his face for the day twisting into something which, it been his own skin there, might have looked disappointed as well. "So you won't be needing to call him here then."

"No." The word was very final, not that it stopped his children from bugging him anyway.

"Who's singing at the announcement?" Courfeyrac inquired, purposefully keeping his voice light as he did so.

"Eponine," Combeferre replied. "As always. She is the face of our business after all." He looked scornfully at the trio: Bahorel with his anger issues, face normally marred by a black eye or split lip; Jehan, never wearing the same face from one day to the next but instead picking and choosing whose look he was going to steal next; and Courfeyrac, his eldest child, with his usually sexy clothing choices and a face which changed almost as often as Jehan's, only in a more permanent way, the boy clearly addicted to both the knife and especially the zydrate which proceeded every surgery. None of them were fit to face his company - God knows he'd get no business whatsoever if they did - and he himself was too old and past his prime. No, Eponine had been the best choice, even if his children didn't agree with his decision. She was young, beautiful, and had the voice of an angel, meaning she opened every public event the company held. What was even better, she was indebted to Combeferre for the next fifty years for the vocal chords they'd given her after she lost her voice. After all, what good was a singer with no voice?

God only knows what they were going to do without her.

"I can sing just as well as her," Courfeyrac grumbled. Combeferre wanted to laugh at that, having heard Courfeyrac's voice in the past, but he held off, too tired for any kind of argument. He was often too tired these days, though he would never admit it to his children. Showing weakness to them was like showing weakness to a pack of wolves.

"I don't care," he settled on instead. "Now out, the lot of you. I have work to do."

It took over ten minutes for them to finally leave, but when they did Combeferre sank further down into his chair and sighed. Fathers were meant to love their children, but surely it could be understood and forgiven when it came to his.


	2. Chapter 2

Joly pulled on the gloves as he entered the room, mind already shutting down in an attempt to spare him what was going to happen. It never worked, had never worked once in the five years he'd had this job, but he lived in hope that one day it would. His helmet was resting in its usual place beside the table of tools but he left it there a little longer, instead studying his next victim carefully.

"Good evening," he said calmly, eyes blank as he looked the boy - for he really was, could be no older than twenty-one at best - up and down. The boy let out a terrified squeak and promptly wet himself, making Joly sigh. "This might make a bit of a mess."

"Please," he begged as Joly approached, picking up his helmet and sliding it on. "Please please please don't do this oh please don't fucking do this I don't want to die it was an accident I swear just please don't kill me I'll pay extra I swear I just had no money I am fucking begging you you bastard don't do this!"

"Shut up," Joly snapped, voice becoming harsher as he let the Repoman come to the front and take over. He glanced down the sheet on the clipboard. Lungs. Needed because the boy had cancer, picked up from second hand smoke thanks to his grandfather. The job was listed urgent but that made no difference to Joly. He considered every job as urgent if they had to be brought back to the house, just in case Enjolras ever found the soundproof room carefully concealed under their residence. That was a conversation he did not need.

Years of practice took over as he picked up the first scalpel, the victim's begs turning into screams of agony as it dug in and the blood started to pool on the floor, running down the grooves which were there for that very purpose. As he worked Joly kept up a constant stream of chatter, the words helping to distract his mind from his actions, his body so used to the movements that he didn't even have to think as he took apart the boy before him. As he pulled out the lungs and placed them carefully beside him he noticed how the boy's arm moved when he touched a certain place. He took care of the lungs first, made sure they were sealed in medical containers and ready for transport before turning back to the - now dead - boy. For a few moments he amused himself by treating him like a puppet, making his mouth move and pretending they were talking, until Joly suddenly came to the forefront again. For the first time Joly had managed to hide himself so well the Repoman had taken over, had managed to lock away his personality and conscience so firmly that he couldn't see how sick what he was doing was.

Through himself away from the body Joly retched helplessly in the corner, bloody hands fluttering around his mouth as he tried to stop himself from losing all the contents of his stomach. Finally he regained control and straightened, trying desperately to regain his calm for long enough to clean up the mess.

With the body disposed of and the blood cleaned away Joly made his way out and back into the house, sneaking up behind Enjolras in his study and pressing light kisses to the back of his neck, smirking against the skin when the blonde jumped.

"Hey," Enjolras said as he relaxed, turning and pulling Joly into his lap for a longer kiss. "How was work?"

Joly hesitated before replying but only for a split second.

"Hard. A kid died."

"I'm sorry," Enjolras said instantly, wrapping his arms round Joly that bit tighter. In that moment Joly felt like the shittiest boyfriend ever for lying to him. He didn't deserve sympathy, not for what he'd done. "I'm almost done here so I'll be through in about ten. Want to watch a film or something?"

"Sounds good," Joly said softly, climbing off Enjolras's lap and making his way through to the lounge. The news appeared when he flicked on the TV but he couldn't be bothered to change it, not when he would only be watching for a few minutes.

Just as his boyfriend was entering the room he regretted that decision.

_"Marius Pontmercy, grandson of billionaire business owner Monsieur Gillenormand, has gone missing today. Marius, aged twenty-two, was last seen in the Latin Quarter on his way to visit his girlfriend Cosette Fauchelevent. He never showed up. When asked, Monsieur Gillenormand stated that 'the boy will show up sooner or later. He usually does.' In other news, it has been announced that the declaration of Combeferre Landy's successor next week will also be the final show for the face of L'ABC Genes, Eponine Thenardier. She has given no reasons for her sudden decision."_

Joly missed most of what the woman said, instead charging for the door the second a picture of the missing Marius appeared on the screen, only just making it to the toilet in time before he was emptying his stomach for the second time that evening. Enjolras was right behind him the whole time, hands steadying his head, voice soothing as he tried to calm Joly who was now shaking in his hold, still retching and worrying his boyfriend.

Joly dealt with his job the only way he could, keeping it separate from his personal life in every possible way. To have it invade his living room in that way, and not only that but to be given details on the personal life of one of his victims, was just too much for the doctor to bear that night. Giving in to the tears he fell backwards, letting the blonde wrap his arms around him as he gave in to the tears.

* * *

Feuilly bit down the urge to call out that he was home when he entered the house, instead sneaking through to the small kitchen and resting his hands on Eponine's waist, grinning when she squealed. The grin turned into a laugh as she span in his arms and hit his chest lightly, and he leant down for a quick kiss.

"How was your day?" he murmured without letting go.

"Busy," she sighed, resting her head against him, happy to ignore the meal for a little longer. "There's this thing next week so I'm having to practice for that and..." She sighed. "I told them."

"You did?" A small frown crossed his forehead as he gently placed a finger under her chin to bring her eyes to meet his. "What did they say?"

"He's not happy about it. I never expected him to be, but at least he's not stopping me."

"Just be careful," Feuilly pleaded. His hand rested on the swell of her belly softly and he smiled sadly as her's moved to cover it, their fingers linking together instinctively. "We've too much at risk and I can't lose either of you." One finger slowly traced its way down her cheek. "I love you."

"Just one more week and we're gone," she promised. "That's it."

"I hope so," he sighed.

"If you two kiss I swear to God I'm outta here."

"You'll do no such thing," Eponine snapped, expertly grabbing her little brother by the ear and dragging him into the room properly before he could escape. "Just look at you, you're filthy! Where've you been all day? Annoying Grantaire again? You should leave the poor man be."

Feuilly couldn't help but smile as he left his fiance to it and continued cooking the meal himself. Eponine lecturing her little brother was a regular sound these days, but he wasn't sure he wanted life any other way.

* * *

Grantaire bit back a moan as Courfeyrac practically forced him against a wall, lips moving down to his neck where he bit and licked a trail further down still, to the point where the graverobber would have been panting and mewling desperately if they were in a more private place (and Courfeyrac were the kind of person you could safely show a weakness like that to).

"So," Courfeyrac breathed when he moved back up to Grantaire's level again a short while later. "The zydrate?"

Grantaire chuckled. "Here," he said, pulling a small vial out of a hidden pocket and slotting it into a gun taken from a different one. He traced the gun over Courfeyrac's anatomy, smirking at the power he so clearly had over the man before finally choosing a place and quickly pulling the trigger. Giving a nod to the bodyguards who had spent most of the evening carefully ignoring them he stepped away, leaving the drugged Courfeyrac to be taken away.

There was every possibility, he considered as he walked through the darkened alleys, that it was time for him to retire. Settle down. Maybe even leave town and find a respectable job. No sooner had he thought this than his mind jumped to Enjolras and the passion which the younger man brought to life, the urge to do the right thing.

"Fuck," Grantaire sighed, surprising a beggar who hadn't seen the shadow passing. Grantaire knew that as long as Enjolras needed his help he'd stick around, which meant there was no chance of him leaving anytime soon.

Plus, Grantaire wasn't even sure he knew exactly what a respectable job was.


	3. Chapter 3

Enjolras smoothed down Joly's hair as he leant out of the bed to kiss his forehead softly. The older man was still pale from his illness the night before and Enjolras was still worried about him, but he had no choice but to leave. He had to go to work.

"Mm, 'Jolras?" Joly murmured, rolling in bed and cracking his eyes open to look up at him.

"Go back to sleep," Enjolras said softly. "I'll call the hospital, tell them you're ill." He brushed a quick kiss to Joly's cheek, silencing all protests before heading for the door. "I'll see you tonight."

As he made his way out of the house he activated his watch, sending out a call to their local hospital.

"Hi, it's Enjolras Tull, Joly Turner's partner. He's not going to be able to make it into work today I'm afraid, he's rather ill." Enjolras frowned as he heard their response. "Really? Oh. Okay. Well, thank you. Goodbye."

With one last glance at the house Enjolras hurried away. He'd talk to Joly later.

* * *

The call came through five minutes after Enjolras had left the house.

_"Job for you. Fantine Bailey. Heart. Information has been sent."_

Joly nodded once before climbing from the bed and getting dressed, quickly and silently. He left the house like a shadow, unnoticed by all.

* * *

Grantaire was the only one to notice the figure in the corner of his eye, the shadow heading down alleys normally frequented by only the graverobber and those few he trusted. Silently he followed the trespasser, stopping just inside the entrance of the last gulley as the shadow crossed to a deserted car park.

From where he was stood he could see everything perfectly and so Grantaire watched, watched as the Repoman stalked and slaughtered a woman, listened to her begs and screams and wondered what Enjolras would think if he knew about this.

In fact he didn't wonder. He knew.

Grantaire left before Repoman had finished his dirty work, heading back to the abandoned flat he called his home, away from the blood before he was spotted and ended up in the same state. Whilst he walked he made himself a silent promise: that he would discover just who exactly Repoman was for Enjolras, or at least find out where he could be found.

* * *

The news had been broken as soon as Eponine entered the small house.

"Where is he?" she screamed at her fiance, tearing the house to pieces even though she knew he wasn't there, Feuilly had told her, had searched himself. She had to be certain though.

"I don't know," Feuilly whispered, feeling utterly useless as he stood by the open door of Gavroche's room. "I just don't know. I've searched everywhere 'Ponine, I've asked people, I just can't find him anywhere."

"I told him not to run off, I fucking told him!" Eponine sobbed, collapsing into Feuilly's arms as he moved to stand beside her. "I warned him to stay in the house."

"He never listens to anyone," Feuilly said softly, kissing her hair as he held her tightly. "You know that. He's probably just gone to look for Grantaire. I'll go find him tonight, Enj too, and I'll ask them both to help. If anyone can find him it's them." He pulled her face up to look at him. "It's going to be okay. I promise. I promised to protect you both didn't I? And I never break my promises." He kissed her properly, long and hard. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

Feuilly had once given his word that he would never go to Enjolras's house, that he would never cause his friend's two lives to merge together in any way. For the first time he went against that, hammering on the door and ringing the bell until the door was opened.

"Hello?" the tall man asked, clearly confused by the short wiry stranger standing outside his house. "Can I help?"

"I'm sorry to disturb, I just need to talk to Enjolras," Feuilly said quickly. "It's important."

"Enjolras, it's for you," the man (Joly, Feuilly realised, this must be Joly) called over his shoulder.

"What?" Enjolras said tersely, closing the door behind him as he stepped out into the porch, leaving a very confused looking Joly in the hall behind him. "What's up?"

"Gavroche is missing," Feuilly said quickly, his words flowing together as he fought to stop from panicking. "I thought he might have gone looking for Grantaire but he hasn't and we're all worried. I need you to keep an eye out for him Enj. I wouldn't ask if I weren't desperate, but he's family and we are one week from getting out of this hellhole." His voice lowered. "Eponine is worried _they've_ got him."

"Combeferre's not that stupid," Enjolras dismissed instantly. "But I'll keep an eye out and see what I can do." He brought one hand up to rest on Feuilly's shoulder. "We'll get him back. And if we don't then we'll make the bastards pay." He paused. "So you've spoke to Grantaire?"

Feuilly nodded. "He's asking around and looking."

"Then if he can be found he will be," the blonde said confidently.

* * *

Enjolras had stayed quiet for most of the night, had fussed round Joly until he was sure the doctor was feeling better, but then just when he was about to bring it up Feuilly had appeared at their door. Joly had started questioning him as soon as the blonde was back inside, but Enjolras had simply shrugged them all off.

"Are you okay?" Joly demanded finally. "You've been acting funny all night, barely speaking to me, going outside to talk to that man instead of inviting him in. What's wrong?"

"When were you going to tell me that you don't work at the hospital?" Enjolras asked quietly, Joly's mouth dropping open as he tried to think of what to say. "What, no lies? Are you not even going to attempt to protest, or tell me that's ridiculous?" Enjolras's voice got louder and more angry as he spoke, until he was almost shouting. "How long have you been lying to me Joly? Did you ever work at the hospital? Are you even a fucking doctor? Or is that all just some big lie? Speaking of, why the fuck _did_ you lie to me about that?"

"Because I work for L'ABC Genes!" Joly cried, silencing Enjolras instantly. "I'm a doctor, yes I'm a fucking doctor, and I used to work with the hospital, but shit went down and I ended up working for Combeferre fucking Landy. You hate him, how the hell was I supposed to tell you that I worked for a man you detest?"

"If you loved me then you wouldn't have lied!" Enjolras yelled back.

"It's because I love you that I lied!"

"How the fuck is that loving me?"

"Because I don't want you anywhere near anything to do with them!"

"Fine!" Spinning on his heel Enjolras stormed for the door. "If you don't want me near anything to do with them then I won't fucking stay."

"That wasn't what I meant!" Joly leapt for Enjolras but was too late, his fingers instead hitting the front door as it slammed shut just in front of him. "Fuck!"

He sank to the floor before the door, tears already spilling from his eyes as he curled into a little ball, praying Enjolras would come back. He knew the blonde would have vanished into the night already, was fast enough to have disappeared into the shadows mere moments after exiting the house and that he would never find him tonight, but Joly's biggest fear in that moment wasn't that Enjolras would find out the truth about his job but that he might choose to never come back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the huge wait here, I lost both laptops at the same time (with this on) and only just got them back. Hopefully I will soon also have my plan for the rest of it so as it can be continued and finished.

Enjolras walked blindly down all the alleys he knew Grantaire frequented until he got lucky, the graverobber appearing from the shadows to walk beside him silently.

"You're feeling brave tonight," he said finally, his voice softer than normal, maybe influenced by the look of pain on Enjolras's face. "Either that or stupid. You're not even armed."

"We had an argument," Enjolras murmured without looking at him. His anger had calmed in the two hours since their argument and now all he felt was anguish. "He works for Combeferre Landy at L'ABC Genes. He's been lying to me for the past four years."

"Ah." Grantaire glanced over. "Hence why you're walking round here at this time of night without even a knife for protection."

Enjolras shrugged. "I need somewhere to stay." His pale blue eyes met Grantaire's dark evenly.

"I've only the one bed," Grantaire warned.

Enjolras shrugged again. "We'll cope. It's nothing I haven't seen before. I'm not sleeping with you though."

"I never thought you were going to," Grantaire replied smoothly. "You're not the cheating type, not even after arguments."

"No that was you."

"I was pissed!" Grantaire protested. "Like, out of my skull drunk. I have never been that drunk, ever, bar that night. Besides, you do not refuse Courfeyrac Landy something he wants. Not if you want to keep your life - have you seen the thugs he calls bodyguards? Murderous bastards more like. I've seen what happens to those who piss Courfeyrac off, and I'd rather it didn't happen to me. I quite like my dick and face." He paused when he realised Enjolras wasn't retorting for once and carefully placed one hand on the other man's shoulder, ready to withdraw it quickly if necessary. What he didn't expect was for Enjolras to practically lean into the touch, taking comfort from it. "Jesus, you're really hung up over this."

"I don't want to fight with him," Enjolras whispered, accepting the hug Grantaire pulled him into and returning it gratefully. "We fought yes but that was a part of who we are. Me and him, we don't fight. We work things out. We talk. Only tonight I didn't give him the chance and I think I fucked things up because of this."

"Give it the night for you both to calm down then go home and talk to him in the morning," Grantaire suggested. Taking Enjolras by the arm he pulled him through the streets to the hole he called home, pushing him down on the bed and even tucking him in as Enjolras fell into an exhausted sleep. Grantaire resisted the urge to join him but instead took a place beside the bed, watching over his sometimes-friend until the sun was rising in the sky.

* * *

When Enjolras got home the next morning the house was empty and their bed cold. There was a single sheet of paper on the table and Enjolras picked it up, reading it slowly.

_Enj,_

_Hopefully you're reading this. If you are, then I'm sorry but I have to go to work. I'll be home as soon as possible. If not... Well, I'd rather not think about that._

_Love,_

_Your Jolllly_

Enjolras sank down into a chair and rested his head in his hands. Joly choosing work over him already was a bad sign, but he hoped it wasn't a sign that this was the beginning of the end.

* * *

Combeferre didn't even flinch or jump any more when his office door banged open, instead just looking over, expecting at least two of his children to be entering the room loudly, probably arguing over something trivial.

What he didn't expect was to see Joly standing there.

"Can I help?" he asked coolly.

"I want out," Joly said, his voice calm and even as he walked over to stood opposite Combeferre at his desk. "You've had five years slavery from me. Well no more. I became a doctor to help people, not to end their lives. So this is it. You and your contract can fuck off to hell."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Combeferre said, more calmly than Joly had expected, carefully placing his papers to one side before steepling his fingers and looking up at his Repoman. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Such a shame you haven't thought through the full consequences of your actions," Combeferre continued, just as calmly. "After all, your boyfriend is in a high position on Inspector Javert's staff. The last thing he needs is a big scandal to his name. And you yourself, you'll never be able to find another job in Paris for as long as you live. In fact, if you ever manage to find another job in the whole of France I'd be impressed. And then there's your loved ones." He raised one eyebrow. "Or have you rethought?"

"You bastard," Joly whispered. "Enjolras was never anything to do with my original deal with you."

"When you make a deal with the devil you sign away your soul. This deal is about so much more than what it was. I feel another ten years should be added simply for your insubordinace here today. Not to mention how your boyfriend has been seen with some rather compromising people..."

"I would rather die," Joly spat, but he was interrupted.

"Yes yes, but would you rather your friends died? Or would you rather they lived?"

"I will never hate anyone as much as I hate you," Joly swore, eyes cold as he looked Combeferre dead in the eye, deadly serious.

"Until you gain enough power to actually harm me, your threats mean nothing," Combeferre dismissed. "Now get out. Your next task will be sent shortly."

There was no-one alive could outthink Combeferre Landy, not when it came to manipulating others. He had always found words and threats to be so much more useful than actions and violence, especially when you made just enough examples to get the picture across that you meant every word you spoke. It made the man just that bit more terrifying.

He gave Joly five minutes after he left the office before sending through the next victim, choosing him carefully. He knew the reaction Joly would have to the name, knew the Repoman would understand it was a punishment, but Combeferre also knew that his threats meant Joly wouldn't back out of the job. He loved Enjolras too much for that.

* * *

Joly felt like being physically sick again when he got the orders through.

_Laigle Meaux._

"Bossuet," he whispered, the ever-familiar smiling face popping into his head as he sank down onto a bench. He couldn't do it, he knew this now. He couldn't kill the man he used to love. Yet at the same time, not doing so was a death sentence for Enjolras. This was his choice now. Kill or lose the man who was his everything.

"That's if I haven't lost him already," Joly muttered bitterly, surprising a young couple walking past.

Standing he started on his way home slowly. Maybe things were already beyond repair with Enjolras, but if he didn't try then he'd never know.


End file.
